When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. In vain Wood protested his innocence. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train.
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